Speckled Bloodbeth Gold
by 4fireking
Summary: After the death of Eddard Stark Jon Snow was to take a team of new crows into the woods. He finds only two to be loyal to the Night's Watch. In the Game of Thrones there is more than royal families fighting for the throne. When Jon finds gold in a cave he thought never existed war ensues and betrayal.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones only this story.

**You know this is a fanfiction because it's terrible. Some of my fanfiction's were voted as the most terrible. But just because those fanfiction's were really bad doesn't mean all my fanfiction's are bad. It just means I have a lot of work to do before I get some recognition on this site. And I don't want to be added in a community as an author you don't like. I write the same reason I play video games before going to be. For fun. I also couldn't think of a good dash symbol so I'll try changing a little bit of my old symbol. There is no war in this story. At least not with Jon Snow in it. This story is about the Night's Watch. I always hated in Game of Thrones how they changed places in the first five minutes. Now I'm no George R.R Martin but I am not the author of Four Song's of Courage. I don't bore my readers but I do make mistakes. Like in this author's note I made mistakes. I only know how to use a comma a little and a period. I like my writing style but like it when other people write my stories for me. Anyways, this chapter will be one thousand words and no fighting. I guess it's to introduce the OC's. And Jon doesn't sound like himself in this chapter but I'm trying to make him as in character as I can. Review and be awesome. Also I can't remember if Jon saved Jeor Mormont in the first or second season. All I know is Jeor Mormont dies in the third season. **

XxX

" Jon Snow," a member of the Night's Watch told their newest but most important 'crow'. " We are having our new members pledge their oath to the Night's Watch. Lord Commander Jeor Mormont says you must take them with you."

Jon did not ask questions, he did not ask who were going, he didn't say a word going to the training grounds where greasy cunts, thieves, and muling bastards were  
>training. Jon Snow was the most remarkable crow to ever step foot in the Night's Watch in all of the Wall. In this fierce and ruthless callaous land where the land<br>laughed, deceived, and made you try to run, the Night's Watch was built over the wall. Jon carried out the Night's Watch with his sword and his virgin face. You could  
>tell a virgin from the way he carressed his sword. Grenn's fists were bloody broken defending Sam from a shithead recruit, Pypar was making dinner<br>for every crow, three hundred and fifty-two since the young soft boy's walked in, and Jon fed his Direwolf Ghost. Ghost responsed to Jon and Jon alone. Although he  
>sometimes listened to Sam. Sam spoke with a soft, girly voice. Some would say he was a girl if he wasn't a pig fat, beard face coward of a man. Everyone bet Gold Dragons<br>that one day the coward would leave the Watch and Jon would kill him, a man he thought to be his brother. At least Samwell didn't flee from the Watch when the dead  
>started to rise and Jon burned him alive. To show what happens to deserters Jeor captured them and killed them in front of all the Night's Watch.<p>

Jon finally made it to the training grounds. You could smell the air and feel the moisture tickling your nose. The air was the only thing warm in the Night's Watch.  
>What made this area warm was the smell of tears of miserable crow's who were already thinking of leaving the Night's Watch. Only two crow's were training; the other<br>fourteen crows were watching their fight. The two could be brother's. All crow's were considered brothers just like every dwarf is a bastard, at least that's what  
>Tyron Lannister told Jon the day they first met. One was a ponytail crow mostly using his feet to change path's and strike in different directions. Jon didn't see<br>the point of his strategy. He was only letting himself get tired as he moved. The other crow was using both hands and a really big sword. He was a big man, muscle in  
>his arms but a very big chest and his throat sticking out of his cowl, his head covered in a woman's silky headdress. Compared to his sword the other crow's sword<br>looked like something to clean your teeth with.

" I am Zant, this is my sword Coalbender, prepare to have your chin bleed, pig." The smaller one wasn't using a fake sword. He was really trying to kill the big man.  
>Jon had to stop it. He ran as fast as he could, not fast enough. The big crow grabbed the smaller crow's sword arm, pulled him close and made a big drunk squeal before<br>he headbutt Zant into the ground.

" I am Mogn. You shut the hell up, talking boy."

" He sure knows how to break heads and end fights," a crow said.

" The only person I heard could do that was Robert Baratheon," another crow said speaking from his wisdom and his memories. " I heard he's gotten fat. Fat means he's  
>gotten slow. And if he's slow my coins will be on people like Zant killing him."<p>

" Compose yourselves as men of the Night's Watch!" Jon yelled running into the training grounds. All members of the Night's Watch got up and stood close together.  
>They looked like unloyal, untrustworthy, and disappointing members. The only ones who showed honor was Mogn who helped Zant the dumb crow up. Zant was breathing<br>but asleep.

" Wake up!" Mogn yelled. " I said wake up! Your mother couldn't get enough of my cock. She made a sound men dream for when I put her teats in my mouth. I'm not  
>old enough to be your father, but my cock is one hundred years older than yours."<p>

" He sounds like he has the blood of a giant in his blood," a member laughed.

" He's too short," another member said.

" No one can call him short."

" Compared to the giants, tree crushers, rock breakers, and monsters alike, he is as big as my stature."

Jon was nervous. Seventeen crow's were here including Jon. What of Wildlings? Mogn and Zant seemed ready to fight Wildlings, but what of the other crow's? He didn't  
>want sixteen crow's to die. They say the Lord Commander Jeor Mormont takes from lunch till bed to write a speech to all the crow's in the morning. His speech is only two minutes long. They were expecting Jon to make a speech of his own. Jon, not one who gets nervous at the simplicity of a speech, coughed two times to clear his throat.<p>

" We are not knight's," Jon said by accident. Every crow was looking at him like the castle's fool, prattling about how they already knew they weren't knight's. " You may not have the armor of a knight, or the helmet on your heads, but we carry honor. Everyone has the honor of a knight inside you. You came to the Night's Watch to prove there's still a knight in you baker's, tailors, shoe makers, blacksmith's, and cart drivers. Maybe you made mistakes and did something you weren't suppose to, but my father showed me even the greatest knights have done bad things. You will do what you must to survive. That means staying together, alert the other's if you think Wildlings are nearby, and keep your swords close. Your swords will save your life in a battle you think cannot be won. Remember your oath and never retreat. It's time to go...become the men you are supposed to be."


	2. Chapter 2

**The first four hundred words a prologue from **Sabishii-Kitsune **about what this story is about. I'm sorry it's late updating but it was really hard editing what I wrote for this chapter. Please read and review. **

XxX

Faster, faster, faster, faster.

The cold wind cuts across her face. Legs moving quickly even with the hindrance of a skirt, coat, thick roots and low branches.

Her breaths are coming in short puff as its becoming harder to breathe with the wind pushing strongly and defiantly against her body and face. Crushing and shrinking her lungs with her legs going numb and skin freezing and prickling.

A branch snags her coat, momentarily choking her with the sudden halt before she panics and moves in frenzy.

She pushes forward and away from the branches, sparing no glance for the clothing. No time for that, they're coming for you.

Run.

His grey eyes is cold and unforgiving.

"Where is it?"

His voice is brimming hot with anger, his hands warm with the intent to strangle her pretty neck if she keeps to be defiant against him.

Silence.

He leans in close; the scent of blood and greed strong in his skin and breath as he breath flames across her skin.

"I'll ask again. Where. Is. It?"

She can see the clearing, a blinding white of hope at the end. Waiting for her.

With a burst, she pushes herself forward and lets herself be engulfed.

Safe.

She squints against the light, lets herself catch all the oxygen she needs, clutches the few coins in her hands tighter-drawing a few more blood.

Safe.

Exhaling a determined and resolute breath; carefully she opens her palms, looking down thoughtfully on the golden coins that is slightly covered with her blood.

The blow came hard and swift.

"You little whore!"

She keeps defiant.

"A whore I may be, ser. But you won't get a word out of m-"

She tugs the pouch of coins out of her gown and then pours a handful into her palm.

Its time.

They were pretty, shiny and cold.

But it was not for humans, it was time to rid of it from the conscience of humans.

She lifts her freezing hand and throws them across and deep into the sea.

Rustle.

She digs her hand into the pouch, grabbing another handful-mindful of her heart beating faster.

Rustle.

One more. One more and all the suffering will be over. Safe.

Rustle.

She throws the whole pouch into the sea, a heavy weight lifting from her heart and shoulders.

A gasp leaves her throat as she turns around, finding an impatient death waiting patiently.

XxX

It was dark and as the cold wind chilled most of the crows to the bone, they were sitting on logs by a campfire and eating gruel. The elder crows had told them these crows were their family. Yet, it didn't feel like family; it didn't feel like a family should, welcoming and warm. This was just cold and unjust people.

" Foul shit," one of the crow's cursed putting his plate on the snow. " I'm tired of being cold and I'm tired of this food. When will the Night's Watch feed us something decent?"

" I wouldn't push my luck on what the Night's Watch feed us," another crow said. " I hear in the hot regions, the regions where raider's and raper's use swords like we've never seen and water is scarce, they feed on the leg's of their own men. The oldest they chop off both feet. The younger but more worthless members they slowly cut off a finger or a toe for food. They're the birds of the land, the vultures."

Zant is sharpening his sword with a whetstone. Morgn and him are staring at each other like two people who want to murder the other. Letting out a slow breath, Zant closes his eyes, sticking into the pockets of his pants that his family gave him. With his eyes closed, he begins to think, seeing a girl appear. She's blurred, but he can tell she's smiling

" The woman loves me; I don't share her love," a crow said talking about a woman or whore back in a brothel. " Little Finger doesn't know but one of his whores is going to have my child. A new whore I might add. If she thinks I'm paying for the bastard she has another thing-"

Morgn stands over the crow and glares at him. When those crows see his face they jump in surprise. " I find your escapade as amusing as killing a rat. Do you know what separates this...you know what from you?" The man shakes his head. Morgn shows him his big knife. " I never see a reason to kill one. You on the other hand can taste Bloodbringer while he carves my cities flag on your lip."

Jon journey through the woods. He hears the sound of howling he thinks may be another one of those ghostly people back in his room. Someone touches him. Jon turns around and sees Zant standing behind him.

" I'm sorry for being a complete imbecile in front of you, Lord Snow, but I need someone who isn't making tales of all the fun they had before entering the Night's Watch."

" It's just Jon. Jon Snow. I'm not a lord and we're not at war, so there's no reason to call me Lord Snow." Jon looks at Zant's sword. There's engraving in it. " How did they let you have that?"

" I paid everyone one thousand Gold Dragons to keep it. Killing crow's isn't how I live. But if crow's want to kill me, I'll see them dead before they get too me!" He takes out his sword and gives it to Jon. " It's okay," Jon says. " I don't need to see your sword." Zant sheaths.

" Why are you here? You live in a palace. Whatever crime you committed your father could probably pay for it."

" You think I'm rich, Jon Snow? You think I'm a prince, Jon Snow? Well I'm not a prince, Jon Snow. I'm poor. Those Gold Dragons didn't belong to me. I stole them from passed out drunk people and I came to the Night's Watch without wrath, crimes, or murder."


	3. Chapter 3

Eighteen knights were riding through the woods. They were wearing armor of Stark soldiers. They were Robert Stark's men. Robert Stark was the oldest son of the Starks. hen he dies his younger brother Bran will be King of Winterfell. Jon Snow would never be King of Winterfell; a trait that bothered him but didn't matter to him. He was a bastard, so what. His only problems took place in the Night's Watch.

These eighteen brave and loyal soldiers were sending a message to a family loyal to the Stark's for over three hundred years. Robert Stark was suppose to be riding with them. One of his soldiers told him he expected a trap. Robert Stark wouldn't leave his soldiers alone for something they had no proof of. As a king he needed to demonstrate his strength of negotiation. Making Grey Wind jump on a table and eat two of Greatjon Umber's fingers was not his only way of gaining allies. His loyal and worried men put milk of the poppy in his chalice, a medicine that could make anyone fall on his ass and slumber faster than four chalices, tied his arms like masters of bondage and rode horses to the royal family.

The thing about the trap the soldiers were trying to warn their king from...it was true. There really was a trap for Robert Stark. The trap came with large number of men with arrows. They were patient, trained. They knew men in Stark armor would strode in on their horses. It wasn't unjustified to them to kill in a crossfire. In the Game of Thrones other people were allowed to kill you.

" The Lannisters send their regards."

Arrows greater then the entire starks arsenal were released on eighteen good knights. The rampant of these men were storms to animals, the faces sucked in and chewed out. Out of the eighteen men and eighteen horses: one knight was choking on his own blood, seventeen were dead, and every horse had one arrow in every vital part. The Lannisters men were stealing their swords and coins while a knight was dying. The knight would shout all hateful things about the Lannisters. He'd say they should be hanged with their men and their bodies buried with the bodies of dead Stark soldiers and their squires to be buried as traitors, but his mouth was fighting a battle it wriggled but could not speak.

The knight couldn't remember his name. He wasn't crazy...he was going. He could see himself being remembered as the stupid knight who died by the Lannisters. A Lannisters men spit on him. Lam mister men spit on him again. His tongue was frozen but not cold. He wouldn't wriggle no more. His wife who he hasn't seen for over three years would hate him. All four of his children would laugh when they hear how their father died.

' _Long live Eddard Stark.'_

XxX

Jon Snow, Zant, and three other crow's were walking through the leafless snow covered forest. No crow made a sound. Their clutter would bring Wildlings to them immediately. All they did was walk, their feet sliding through real white snow, Zant's blade cold from the frost. The cold didn't blunt his weapon, if he swings his weapon it wouldn't cut as fast or kill so easily. Zant couldn't keep his weapon hidden. He would cut through a Wildling before returning to camp, but his god would punish him if he waited for a Wildling before pulling his blade out.

" Jon Snow," a member of the Night's Watch said. " Where did you find that Dire Wolf?"

" I had Ghost since he was a pup," said Jon, " his mother was dead. My family took him in."

" I told you he never killed one," another recruit laughed. " Hand over two Copper Pennies."

" You'll never get anything with two Copper Pennies," the crow laughed.

" At least I'll have two Copper Pennies and you will not."

" Why do you laugh at Jon Snow?" Zant asked, both crows became subtle.

" We were betting how Jon Snow acquired a Dire Wolf. Dire Wolves are mighty beasts. You wouldn't find a Dire Wolf listening to a man unless it never had a mother."

" We were betting if Jon Snow killed a Dire Wolf or not," the third crow spoke. " One Copper Penny each to who got it right."

" Do you want to know something?"

" What is it, Zant?" Asked the first crow.

" In my land we have more Dire Wolves then we have swords. We called one Darkness for his attacks at night. He killed forty men. I killed this Dire Wolf."

" Your a lying long hair ponytail swine is what you are. And what weapon did you use to kill this Dire Wolf?"

" My hands. Dire Wolves don't sleep long, but when they do they don't feel anything. They don't know I'm choking them to death. As a reward for bringing its head they gave me my blades."

" Is anything about that true?"

" It is. Dire Wolves are drawn to our home by the scent of our soldiers blo..."

" Ahead..." The only word Jon Snow mumbled didn't make any sense. It wasn't just Jon Snow who was staring. The crows were scared. Something was frightening them. Zant stared in their direction and saw a black hole in a place fit for winter. " A cave."


	4. Chapter 4

Cave's were once not a big thing to Jon Snow. He would find a cave deep in the woods in front of Winterfell castle, near the water the servants would carry in buckets, his family even had a shrine underground he called a cave when he was a little boy.

" Should we head back now, Lord Snow?" The crow who told Zant about their Copper Pennies bet asked.

" Who cares about a cave?" The crow who won the Copper Pennies said. " Everyone knows caves are just tombs for dead people and dirty rock. I say we leave it and never speak about it ever again. Right, Lord Snow?"

Jon felt something bristle against his hair on his chin. It wasn't the entire cold he felt the first time he entered the Wall and never stopped feeling in between training and sleep, it felt like his father's hand was pulling him to that cave. Jon walked forward.

" Lord Snow, don't go in there!" Zant was the only one trying to bring Jon back. Those three young crows were thinking of themselves, turning around and leaving Jon Snow. They weren't deserting the Night's Watch, but they were leaving a good man behind. To Zant that should be execution at the latest. " Jon Snow…Jon! Jon, get back here!"

When nothing Zant said seemed to call Jon back he ran after Jon. Zant wasn't feeling very brave going into that cave without any crow to help his vision. This reminded Zant how the little boy in him was always scared of pigs. Zant was dropped in a pigs pen owned by his third uncle Zlay and had a fear of pigs trying to eat him. It wasn't until Zant was thirteen that and killed his first pig that he had nothing to fear of pigs; pigs were eaten by humans, even poor humans without swords, shields, or helms.

The first step into the cave…Zant waved his sword as high as his arms could reach. Boys that followed him around, mocking him and feeding ghost stories into his brain, told him in caves bats with fangs made of spiders would bite him if he didn't check the ceiling. Zant's only fear was the cobwebs and silhouette of his own arms.

" Jon." Zant whispered quietly. If Jon was anywhere it would be standing in front of him. " Jon." Zant was worried and growing tired of whispering. His tribe don't keep their voices low like their climaxing. They speak loud and fierce. " JON! JON SNO—"

Zant stepped too far and feel down a dark hole. Zant was calm, counting the amount of time he was falling. Though most men were illiterate and couldn't read in his village or new what numbers were, Zant was taught by many and one was a retired Maester who delivered books to the town in hopes the ones who could read would write a book about their success and lineage.

" Eleven!"

Eleven was the number Zant counted aloud before his face hit his arm and his gut hit solid ground. His gut felt a heavy pain. Pain only felt from something large moving inside him: stones, whetstones, foreign knives, cloaks. The pain was vastly superior to the fall.

" J-Jon Snow…?"

" Over here, Zant."

Jon Snow finally acknowledged Zant's presence.

Zant would be happy if he wasn't so mad at Jon. How could he not listen to him and bring him down here? Lord Snow may be richer than Zant and far more handsome, stockier, swifter with a sword, loved by crows, but he was acting like one of Zant's villagers who tied a yarn string around his balls. Don't get Zant wrong. Zant was happy Jon Snow was alive but he didn't know if it was love for him or a curse Jon put on him.

" That was quite the fall we had," Zant laughed then murmured when Jon didn't answer him. " We should be able to climb the walls and the hole should still be open. If we use our feet and lock arms we could push ourselves up."

" Come over here."

What was so important Lord Snow didn't want to leave, thought Zant as he joined Jon in seeing what all the attention was about. Zant joined Jon's back…something burned his eyes. Zant's eyes were accustomed to look into bright light when breakfast was near so he could not get distracted by its glare. Whatever glare this light had was strong. It not only blinded a man like Zant but it nettled his perception.

Terrifying yellow eyes, mouth with more teeth than any Dire Wolf, big mouth, wings were big and head had wing sticking out, color was uncertain, and tail was sharper than a scythe. The most terrifying creature Zant's ever seen.

It was only a picture. Carvings on the walls. The picture was a dragon. The person who wrote it was either hoping for a dragon or lost his mentality—dragons don't exist in Westeros…their extinct. Zant's father told him just as his father's father told him. The carving of the dragon was unimportant…just the gold.

An entire wall made of gold and the last person died unable to take it. Pieces of the gold were stuck in the wall. A hammer was the only tool that could break this wall. Zant saw pieces of dragon talons, rings shaped like crowns, small statue pieces of dogs and horses, a giant coin piece, and a piece that could replace one of Zant's teeth if he ever lost one.

" Jon Snow…this is gold." Zant said. They made a great discovery and the only thing he could do was repeat what Jon already knew. A dumb question.

" Real gold…" Jon turned away, afraid of what the thought of this gold was doing to him.

" Should we tell the lord commandeers about this place?"

" No. If they know then the rest of the Night's Watch will know and it will make them all fight for their freedom. Freedom in the Night Watch is execution and sword through the heart. We must never speak of this to all the—"

Jon Snow grew quiet. He said nothing but his face all pale and green could tell you he was startled, maybe even a bit scared. Zant was scared too. A voice, like a banshee ushering its death bringing scream, reached inside Zant so deep he was starting to yell for it to stop! A scream like this means death.


	5. Chapter 5

Not all wars were between the Lannisters and the Starks. Their wars were in climate where the trees stay green but the wood was blue. The grass was blue like the wood in this forest. The battle would be in this forest. Five thousand men against one thousand and five hundred men and women. The side with the most men usually win and since the other side had women it was a certainty the side with more soldiers would win.

The first army was the Black ManWind. The army was mostly made of lazy drunk men with no bone in their brains or elasticity, the only thing they understood was completing a mission then finding the biggest and most expensive whores. Their king and strongest man with a sword Frack Deadler was highly religious of the god who grew roots from his arms, eyes like a deer, and scars for every man's soul it captured. Those who didn't believe in this god were to fight for the right religion. Every soldier had a white broadsword with a silver blade.

The second army Black ManWind was going to massacre in blood was Ophelia Ochala. Women were allowed to fight because the men were poor at satisfying them. Nothing they try ever works with them or helps them bear children. Then one man was so angry with his the women giving him nothing he tried hacking her head off with his axe. That woman, her name was Ophelia, drived her knife through that man's neck. Blood splashed over her. She demanded a man...the man entrenched by her demands kept his manhood in her and never took it out. The way he moved his manhood made all the men look at their manhood then walk away. The man's blood spread on the luckiest man in the kingdom...all women licked and rubbed his manhood until he was squirting ribbons on their tummies. The town's tradition was to bring women to battle with men to copy this earlier phenomenon. Was it real or just a tale for young boys growing their meat for the first time?

These weren't just men and women with different ideals joining together by someone smart as Tyrion Lannister. Most of the men and women in both armies were illiterate. They weren't just illiterate, they laughed when they see a book. The men would take the books from men they thought to be warlocks and burned them. The women used the books the same way pigs used mud, to soak it in. When they bleed from their Axe wound.

A soldier didn't have to be smart, or brave, or even loyal. The king's looked for speed and power for their army. No soldier on Black ManWind army was stronger than Iywel Stormborn the second and Harterne Overstone. Harterne and Iywel always ran on the front lines together. Harterne was indebted to Iywel for saving him from a festering wound. Iywel helped Harterne with his broken temper and attitude that scares whores away. No one tells them their opinions when Harterne was near Iywel.

" Do you think we'll face the heir to the Iron Throne?" Iywel asked. He knew only the heir to the Iron Throne could stop an army like his with their numbers. Iywel wanted to lose against the heir to the Iron Throne. They'd take Iywel across the seas and make him the knight of the Seven Kingdoms. No one answered. " Didn't think so."

Iywel was cunning. He could make any lie and make anyone believe him. Right now he had to be on his guard, since the second army arrived. Two hundred men and women at the most walking on the road. Their only weapons were knives made poorly trimmed into blades.

' _Where's the rest of them?' _Iywel looked left and he looked right. Sometimes an army tries to sneak up to their men by moving on different sides, secretly moving behind the trees. Iywel didn't see anymore soldiers. ' _Something doesn't feel right. I'm never this lucky.' _Although Iywel was never lucky in his earlier days, it wasn't unreasonable the rest of the villagers were running away in the opposite direction and these soldiers were just distracting them to get away. Iywel didn't care. ' _Tonight I feast with my blade dipped in Ophelia blood.' _

The men charged, arms holding their swords ready to cut off their heads. The Ophelia's stood their ground and held their blades high. Iywel struck first, cutting through but not beheading one solider. He left a long fatal cut big enough to drop a head in. Killing him was more exciting then the harem Iywel had in The Reach. That's right, he was there at one time. He just waltzed into Khal Drogo of the Dothraki people's camp and had his way with the women. He left before Khal Drogo found someone of his type in his camp.

Iywel raised his sword to shield himself from the tiny blade of a Ophelia woman. The blade bounced but Iywel shook. The women in this army were the true warriors. Men were so used to them getting blood on themselves they forgot how to handle the smell of it from their own blades. Iywel moved forward, swung with his left hand, she backed away. He walked once more, swung with his right hand, she backed away once more. Her mind was tactful but she wasn't a genius at arms. After waiting for her next slash Iywel stabbed her with his blade, his blade hidden in his chainmail.

It was needless to say Iywel killed faster than the rest of the knights. What he didn't see was lots of bodies. Only men and women moving around his knights...they did nothing. The ones who were strong and the ones who were dutiful did nothing when a different Ophelia stabbed them across the chest. They didn't scream, they bleed, their blades cast a scarlet emission of bright colors over their weapons.

' _This can only be the work of magic.' _


	6. Chapter 6

Iyumi knew half of these men and none of them would be so terrified in battle they would just stand there and let their enemies cut them down. They would emulate their opponents moves to make it look like they were fair and honorably then plant their foot before putting their blades through their necks or taking a knife out to stab one eye. These men were either put under some kind of magical spell or lost their brains. These men were already brainless as it as, so they had to have brains before losing them.

Iyumi found his answer. Hidden behind the trees he saw three witches. These weren't witches of the mortals; these witches were hideous, scary, and undead. Their eyes reflected horror and souls forever burned by green flames. Each which had one to three eyes. There was the first witch whose eye was big and sheeny like a girl's hair, the second had two eyes small but dull like a giant's, and the third had three eyes in a straight line.

A Ophelia man jumped Iyumi with his small blade. Iyumi dived out of the way. He kept backing away as the man swung his sword. Iyumi had to watch his throat from being slit. Iyumi paid no mind to the army of frozen soldiers behind him, who the Ophelia man managed to miss. During the chaos Iyumi saw five men have their throats slit as tiny drops of blood trickled down their necks. Not only were they frozen but their blood was moving slowly. Strong swords littered the area. They once belonged to good men Iyumi was going to miss…no brains and no feelings, but good men with families and act for their king.

Iyumi tries swinging his sword, but he missed his swing when the Ophelia man rolled. He pulled out a sword half the length of Iyumi's and relentlessly swung at his throat; alerting Iyumi to block with his sword. A loud noise came tumbling towards Iyumi. No one else but Ophelia men and women were around. He was a dead man…

A sword ripped through the Ophelia's man stomach. There wasn't any breastplate for that stomach, the poor fool. Like a pig pile of pig guts his arms feel out and he fell on the ground dead. No burial and no burning for him. On top was Harterne, kicking him over to show his organs.

" Don't eat that!"

Harterne would eat that man's organs. Organs tasted like rabbits to him. His hunger dissipated, erased and ready to fight on. They had a war to win.

Stupid people let their guard downs. When they moved to kill a man they either had a hammer to their brains, a knife in the back of the neck, or a sword in their heel and then a sword to the neck. So much blood and guts over the ground…Iyumi couldn't help but throw up in his mouth. Why did they have to go to war? They both need something, sure, but that doesn't mean every war has to die for land. They weren't the Stark's and the Lannisters. Back when the Mad King Aerys II Targaryen was still alive Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark worked together to stop him, and Aerys was killed by Jamie Lannister the "King Slayer". Why are they fighting each other now? Because Robert Baratheon is dead? Because his son Joffrey Baratheon took the throne? Iyumi never gets why people start war. What circumstances make war and what circumstances stop war?

Iyumi had to understand that sometimes men don't work together like him and Harterne. Iyumi struck first and then Harterne guarded him. A woman charged at him with her axe, Iyumi raised his sword but struck with her hammer. The staggering force of the hammer weakened her enough for Iyumi to behead her. Beheading was easy with a sharp blade. King's talk about having honor, but it's people like Iyumi who were at a disadvantage. They didn't have swords like theirs or who armies behind them. They only had their wits and whatever sword they were given by their father's, like a hammer. A small hammer that can only hit nails but also bashes open people's brains.

A man went right through his sword to his chest, luckily with an axe the bomb bastard. His arm protects him from an axe. Harterne kicked him off the ground and impaled him with his sword. Even so, Harterne left himself off guard against two men. Iyumi ran ahead of him and slashed both chest's open with a swift swing. Their hazy eyes glared at Iyumi before their deaths. Iyumi returned their attention with a bored look.

" We needed five thousand soldiers to beat these cruds?" Iyumi smirked, clutching his sword with one hand as his left hand was in deep pain. It felt cold then numb. The pain was swirling inside Iyumi giving him his strength of how he swung a sword.

Iyumi counted fifty men and women left. Angry, perhaps in rage over the resentment and hatred towards Iyumi. Failure was set in their minds. Failure to win even though they only had two soldiers to fight…they now had over four thousand. The other soldiers were freed from their magic.

" Retreat for now!" A Ophelia men shouted. Victory was sapping from their clutches. They turned their armor less loincloth asses around and ran straight towards home.

" Horaaa!" The men cheered. To them victory was certain and they felt strong and mighty instead of worthlessness of not doing anything.

" Three cheers for Iyumi Stormborn and Harterne Overstone!"

" Horaaa!" First cheer.

" Horaaa!" Second cheer.

" Horaaa!" The third and final cheer. You might think they were cheering for him defeating over fifty soldiers. If you think so you're wrong. They cheer for Iyumi every battle because Iyumi is their best warrior.

Iyumi is the best warrior. The only thing Iyumi hasn't accomplished was meeting King Joffrey. His mother gave him a medallion that proclaimed him a knight for the Lannisters like his father. Today, Iyumi thought, that silly medallion may have saved his life as well the life of Harterne. The medallion protected him from magic.

Iyumi knew those witches were still out there. They were watching him, waiting for him, wondering how a man like him could have broken their magic. This wasn't the last Iyumi would see of them.


	7. Chapter 7

After the short victory between Black Manwind and Ophelia Ochala a raven arrived with a message for Iywel. Only a few people were literate in Westeros. It was either a king or a very educated man who could send this message. Iywel couldn't read but he had someone who could read the note, Saria Leappin. She was a lady who tended to the wounded nursing them back to health. She is beautiful but never lets any man unwounded get close to her. Iywel is the only man whose ever gotten close enough to ask her for help.

Iywel found her in her nursing station rubbing a wet cloth over a wounded man's chest. He was bleeding. His wound may have been infected and she was cleaning it to stop disease. The last thing Black Manwind needed was a soldier with a disease. They'd execute or banish anyone if they had a disease. Iywel remembered that man as one of the man who marched with him against Ophelia men. He was frozen and stabbed if he recalled. The blade must have been so weak it barely sank into his skin.

" Wounded are welcome, able-bodied must leave," Saria said washing the man's wound. When she said "able-bodied" she meant Iywel.

" Saria my friend," Iywel said smiling and showing his best smile from his clean teeth. " I have something I can't do and I need your help."

" This man needs my attention. Find some other girl to practice raping on." She said bluntly, taking the wet cloth off his chest and putting it on his head.

" That's not what I came here for," Iywel said. Saria turned around as Iywel handed her the letter. " Can you read it for me."

Saria stared at Iywel. She saw through how foolish. He needed her help because his brain would never be good at anything but swinging a sword. She used her teeth to bite a hole in the string and pulled the note out of the string. Her teeth were strong like a wolf. Her strength with her arms wasn't bad either. She could fight a man with just her hands and her intelligence was almost as wise as a princess or a queen.

" Sir Iywin Stormborn," she said reading from the letter. " Your skills of the blade and combatant robust have earned you the right to be a Lannister soldier. Go to King's Landing to be knighted by Joffrey Baratheon. Signed by Tywin Lannister." Saria put down the note to talk to Iywin with her own words. " I can't believe you actually made it into King's Landing.|

" The people in King's Landing are at war. They just picked the best swordsman before it was too late."

" When you get back don't expect to find me."

" Is there something I need to know?"

" You wouldn't care…I'm leaving to the free city Reckmam to find my parents."

" Your parents won't be in Reckmam because you weren't born in Reckmam."

" I'm going there because where I once lived was destroyed by the Mad King. I leave tomorrow in the morning. Chose your next words carefully for they will be your last."

" You can't just leave your leader to go wherever you want."

" I can. I'm getting married."

Iywin couldn't believe his ears. Saria was young. Too young to get married even though girls were getting married when they started puberty. She was born in 275 AD, by that age she would have three children already, but men were poor and only rich could marry whomever they wish.

" You can't get married? What about your chastity? What about finding a man you want to settle down with?"

" What do you care? I'm not one of those girls you've buried your bones into. You've never taken me to your bed and lust me until I bleed. I've never bleed for any man. I'm a virgin who has saved more knights and kings then you have put your cock in women you pay for."

" That is what you think; I think you and I are kind of like brother and sister."

Iywin couldn't stop her. She was going to Reckmam. Reckmam was only found by the smart. It is an island city only reached through an underground tunnel. Saria wouldn't tell him how to find the entrance and there was no convincing for her. Iywin decided it was just best to leave.

" Wait." Saria said. Iywin turned around and smiled like he was wearing a new cot. " You're stronger than most soldier but you are not a war god. Be sure to watch your back on the battlefield."

" I'll wait until the enemy strikes and then stick my sword up his ass."


	8. Chapter 8

What good is having a sword if your danger is hiding in the dark? How long can something stay trapped in an unclimbable pit when your eyes can't see? The hole was dark and Zant had not heard a word from Jon Snow. He did not hear Jon Snow sing orders of command to Zant. It was like Lord Snow was wounded.

Zant kept hope that Castle Black would send good men to find them and free them before Zant's hunger took his life, or worse, take the life of Jon Snow. How can someone care so much for a man he barely knows? Was it he trusted Jon? Did he enjoy being around him for his curly black hair and hair on his chin? Or was it just how Jon Snow is the son of royalty? It didn't matter. If no fucking man got them out of here Zant would die with Jon Snow. If Jon died before the help came Zant would find justice.

" Tell me again why no one wants to be a ranger, Jon Snow?" Zant asked. Talking helped Zant stay awake. Even though he saw nothing, sleeping was not a good idea. Animals eat the sleeping before they met the god of death.

" Rangers leave Castle Black. When they leave the castle they leave the safety of Castle Black. Wildings attack men in the open, there's no shelter like in Castle Black, and they just don't like Castle Black so they do what they can to stay warm here."

" Before I die I want to know one thing. Was there ever a chance I could be your friend?"

" The men who left will burn a pyre. Men will come for us. There's nothing to fear."

" The men are cowards. Their knowledge is like five year old swords that have not been sharpened."

" Why do you hate them so much?"

" I don't hate them. I just wish better men could join…no, it's a foolish wish. Before this accident I asked those three sobs if they would follow me. Those traitorous bastards laughed."

" Did they leave?"

" I don't know. All I remember is their refusal to help and me coming in here."

" And look at where that got you." Jon Snow laughed when he heard Zant tell him the story. " They don't like you."

" I know they don't like me. It's because I'm better than them—"

" I mean not many of the people in Castle Black like you. In the Night's Watch we look for people who have stolen, murdered, and fucked. Are you one of them, Zant?"

" No sir. I do bad things but they were always for other people sir. I follow but never want to lead."

" They see you as a loyal dog. Maybe they even see you as a knight. They have lots of pride. But if three know we're alive it won't take long till every crow is digging for the chance to save us."

In the darkness Zant coaxed a smile. A little smile that was short but helped the despair and anger in Zant's creep out. Something about what Jon said made Zant smile. But it was short-lived. There was no air in this tunnel, no light, and no sound but their voices. Zant wished Jon could reassure him a little more. Zant never felt like this before entering the Black. He never feared for his life.

XxX

Saria left like she said to go meet her parents. She was walking through a road where men would rob her but not kill her. She was walking slowly through the road but trailed off to the forest. It was dark in the forest. It was like the trees were grabbing the sun and squeezing it blackening it. Saria heard that only happens when winter is here, and now it is coming.

Saria looked forward and back and left and right. She looked everywhere to see if anyone was watching her. She looked in the trees that were only black and dead and never grew leaves. No one climbing on those trees. The secret to the entrance of Reckmam was an underground tunnel. A tunnel hidden under leaves. Saria grabbed a rope hidden beneath those leaves and she pulled. Saria fell when the door opened.

Blackness was all she could see beneath the door. The black was her friend. Years of tunneling and battles fought here by no surviving men, she didn't want to see how much was left in the tunnel. She went down the door. Her feet fell down first; one last look. If anyone was around they could easily kill her, she was barely armed, and take the tunnels.

It was for the family. Saria was seldom about marrying. At first she had so much planned to do, but the thing she wanted most was children. She wouldn't bear a child of a man she just met. Saria had one man she loved but he was too busy flaunting everyone else to notice her. Saria decided to forget about him and jumped in the tunnel.

The door closed after Saria jumped into the tunnel. Under the hundreds of leaves only those who knew about the tunnel would find it. There was something Saria missed when she entered the tunnel. A small mud puddle was left on the grass. It was wet and sloppy. Suddenly, a foot printed it.


End file.
